


O Captain! My Captain!

by MaevesChild



Series: Through the Eluvian [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 06:51:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3758569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaevesChild/pseuds/MaevesChild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He remembered my name. Best damned commander this world has ever known."</p><p>Threnn goes to visit Warden Loghain on the walls of Skyhold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	O Captain! My Captain!

Threnn wasn't the type to be nervous.  She'd seen enough in her forty-some years of life that it took a lot to rattle her.  After the battle that cut up her face and nearly took her life, she was solid.

Scars cost her a husband, but gained her the best damned commanding officer the world had ever known.  Maric's Shield was a better partner than that husband ever was.  Her brothers and sisters didn't care she was ugly.  The General didn't either.  He just wanted to know if she could fight and if she had his back.

Threnn could always fight.  She would always have his back.

Politics drove her to the Inquisition.  Threnn was fine in a crisis and happy to serve, but she wasn't quartermaster material once they graduated from Haven to Skyhold.  What did she know about buttering up overstuffed nobles and making deals with scheming merchants?  She was a soldier.  So she took up the sword again.  She would serve.  

She was still alive.  It was well.

That's when the General returned.  He wasn't a general anymore, but she'd always think of him such.  Didn't matter that he was wearing Grey Warden blue.

The Inquisitor was a fine leader and Cullen a fine Commander, but neither were Loghain Mac Tir.

He was perched up on the walls, carefully out of the way of the soldiers.  Threnn wasn't sure why he was there, instead of in the thick of things.  The Inquisition was a bunch of fools if they weren't going to take advantage of his wisdom.

She was going to, at least.

Threnn managed to find some clothes in the barracks, something that wasn't an Orlesian looking uniform.  She didn't mind it, not really, but she didn't want to go up there looking like a dandy.  He probably wouldn't even know who she was without the red steel splintmail they all wore in the Shield, but that was okay.  It wasn't about her anyway.

Loghain was leaning on his elbows on the ridge of the wall, silhouetted by the pink and orange sunset. Up here in the mountains, it always looked like a painting, all colored skies and streaky clouds.  Up until now, it hadn't been important.  Threnn wasn't an art type.

Her heart banged against her ribs.

"Warden Loghain?"  She wanted to call him  _General, Teyrn, Your Grace_  but she knew that wasn't right anymore.  He was a stickler for accuracy.  He turned to her, paused and studied her face.

"Threnn."  A smile spread across his face, a face so familiar even after ten years, though oddly healthier and less thin, only a bit more weathered and broken in.  "Maker's balls, its damn good to see you."

He remembered her name.  

"Ser, I...," she wasn't one to be speechless, but here it was.

"No, no," he interrupted before she needed to come up with something more to say.  "Not  _Ser_  or anything else.  Just Loghain.  Warden if you must, but I'm no leader these days."  He huffed.  "You'd make a fine Warden yourself if they weren't such a broken mess, but you don't want to be one."  He grimaced a little and looked over her shoulder as if he heard a distant voice.  "Price is too high.  Too much corruption.  And it's good here.  The Inquisition is doing fine things."  He smiled again, shaking off whatever was pulling at him. "You've probably had to beat sense into a dozen Orlesian farm boys, but I know you're up for it. Are you doing well? Of course you are, aren't you?"

"Well enough."  That was the truth.  It was easy to say.  "It's not like being under you."

He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest before Threnn realized what she'd said.  

"I don't recall you being under me," he said, almost a chuckle.

"Maker, I didn't...," she started.  She was used to being with soldiers and he would likely have gotten a snappy answer if he was just a soldier.  Something about  _don't you wish I was under you_  or  _you couldn't handle this much woman_  or occasionally  _prove it._ She might be ugly, but she wasn't dead and there was never a shortage of men who didn't care what she looked like.  But he wasn't  _just a soldier._    He wasMaker blasted  _Loghain._  He was the Hero of River Dane, the once General of Ferelden's army, the... _._  "I mean...I  _meant_... ah Andraste's tits." She gave up.

He laughed.

He laughed easier than she remembered; he was always so deadly serious  _before_. 

Behind him on the stone wall was a wine bottle.  It was pale green and the sunlight shone through it, but only a glass or two was missing.  Not drunk.  Then what? Was being a Warden more kind to him than being a Teyrn had been?

"I apologize," he said, unfolding his arms and clapping her on the shoulder.  "It was a poor joke.  I'm sure the idea of an old man climbing on you is less than appealing.  I've spent too much time listening to Wardens banter with one another.  They have very little discipline."

She too quickly put her hand over his.  She didn't mean to.  She shouldn't.  She did it anyway.

"No, it's...it's not," she swallowed.  "Its not bad at all.  I shouldn't say it, but...."  Threnn dropped her hand because she was enjoying the feeling of his fingers under hers far more than she should.  And she  _shouldn't_  say it.  She wouldn't.

It was no secret that half the Shield wanted to bed him, mostly because he didn't bed anyone, not even after his wife died.  Cauthrien was his right hand, she was with him everywhere and there were rumors, but they knew there was nothing there.  If anything, she was his daughter, not his lover.

Threnn was certainly older than his actual daughter and Cauthrien both, but if Loghain was going to suddenly start sleeping with soldiers he once commanded, he'd likely choose someone more attractive.  Not that there were options.  Not that he was offering.  Didn't matter.  

Threnn lost a husband over her damaged face and scarred body.  She knew she wasn't going to get the attention of a legend with it.

Loghain frowned. "What shouldn't you say?"

"Shit," she sighed, feeling her face flush like a damned maiden.  She respected him more than this.  She thought she was over this.  Apparently not.  "I'm sure you knew, I mean, how some of the men talked, what they said."

"Besides the rumor that I was bedding Cauthrien?"  He looked put out.

"We knew better," she said quickly.  "We just wondered who else you might...Maker's ass, you don't want to hear this."

"No, no," Loghain said, gesturing into the air, his tone with the flavor of unspoken command.  "I'd love to hear it."

She capitulated. "They wondered who you might be bedding instead.  What was it you liked?  Half the Shield was hoping it was them.  You inspired us.  It made me... _us_  love you."

Loghain's face softened. "That's not what I was expecting.  I didn't...," he paused and quirked the corner of his mouth.  "I didn't know you felt that way."

"We all did, still do mostly, the few of us still left," Threnn said, tucking herself between the invisible shields of her brothers and sisters.

"Not we,  _you_ ," he said.  Like always, he didn't fuck around.  He just said what he meant.  Threnn aspired to follow his example; in the strength of her convictions, standing up for people, having Loghain's back, even when Ferelden politics made her life a living hell for having them.  

And he wasn't her commander anymore.  He was just a soldier, if albeit a Grey Warden one.  They were equals, even if Loghain had stories in fancy books about him.

_Be brave as he taught you to be._

"Yes, me too."  It felt good to admit it.

He smiled and reached for the wine bottle instead of commenting.  He look a swig from the neck of the bottle and offered it to her.  Threnn took it gratefully and swallowed.  Highever Red.  It tasted like home.

"I miss Ferelden," he said, taking the bottle back from her and resting it on the wall again.  He leaned back beside it and patted the wall with his palm.  Used to taking orders from him, Threnn immediately complied, leaning up against the wall next to him.  Not that she didn't want to.

Threnn shrugged.  "Technically, we're in Ferelden now, but its not the same.  No Mabari."

Loghain snorted a laugh.  "I never thought I'd miss the smell of wet dog."

"You don't."  She elbowed him as if he was any other soldier.  "That's just a thing people say."

"I do miss the company, such as it was," he said.  His voice was wistful.  "I didn't keep my distance because I wanted to.  I needed to; to keep discipline, order.  It was more important that you respect me."

"We did; I do," Threnn said.  She looked over at him, at his hawkish profile in the fading light.   Looked like he'd broken his nose, once or twice.  There was a faint white scar on his neck that disappeared into his gambeson. 

Loghain turned to her and studied her face.  His expression was neutral, but she knew what he saw.  She'd long since stopped being self conscious about it, about the scars that danced along the the meat of her cheek, changing the shape of her face, under her eye, across her chin.  She used to be wholesome looking at least, passably attractive at best with hazel eyes and freckles and cropped auburn hair.  Now, it was...it  _usually_  didn't bother her. 

"You're a handsome woman, Threnn," Loghain commented and she wondered if she'd gone mad.  "Weren't you married?"

"I was," she said, fingers going to the keloid of scarring under her eye.  "He didn't have the stamina for  _better or worse_  turns out.  Lousy husband.  Didn't really want a soldiering wife."  She shrugged.  "But's who I am."

"Foolish," Loghain replied.  "Had I been given a different path?" He almost sighed. "I have always preferred the company of warriors."

"You know where you stand when someone's got a sword," she commented.  She liked fighters too, people who didn't give up when things got hard or scary.  

Threnn realized the side of her arm was touching his.  She felt like she ought to move it for propriety, but she didn't want to. That was hard and scary, but she kept her arm where it was, letting the warmth his arm touch her through the thinner linen of her tunic.

His reply was an inarticulate noise.  It wasn't affirmative or negative.  Just a grunt.  A huff of air.  

"Not always."

She turned her head to find him still looking at her.  He seemed close. And tall. Taller than she remembered.

"What'd you mean?" Her voice was suspiciously quiet and breathy.  It was not like her at all.

"I don't know where we stand, right now."  It was a statement, not a question. "Things are bad.  There are  _circumstances_ ," he said, not clarifying but the pitch made it sound ominous.  "Death is threatening.  Not sure I want to just fade away."

"Never," Threnn said.  She leaned in closer before she realized what she was doing.  "Even if you were lost, you'd never fade away.  I owe you my life, so many do.  We'd never forget."

"I don't care about a legacy," he said.  "That's for people with bloodlines and important names.  I just care about living the last bit of life I have left."

His hand was big and warm and then it was on top of hers where it laid against the stone.  She wasn't imagining things.

"Are you?" Threnn couldn't finish, the unspoken bit hanging in the air like a wisp of smoke.

Loghain looked at her for a moment long before turning and looking away.  They were facing towards the courtyard, the sounds of sparring steel, murmur of voices, laughter floating up into the quickly darkening sky.

"I remember when you asked to join Maric's Shield," he said, his hand moving only enough for his fingers to wrap around her palm.  The tips of his big fingers brushed against sword worn callouses.  "I made you spar with Ser Marius and you knocked him on his ass in the dirt."

Threnn cracked a smile.  "He was big, but I was faster."

"You were incredible," Loghain said.  "No one else ever knocked him down before or after.  Just holding your own with him was enough to get a spot in the ranks, but you had him on his back with your boot on his chest and I swear."  He looked back at her.  "I wanted to try to best you myself after that, but it wasn't right.  I've been beaten since then, but before that, no one had managed.  I'm sure you could do it now."  

His fingers moved again, lacing themselves between hers.  No point in watching her tongue now.  

"What, get you on your back?" she snarked.

He snorted a laugh.  He looked like he was considering how to reply, debating the merits of sarcasm versus honesty, or some combination of the two.  He was taking too fucking long.

Threnn turned to him, rolled herself over him until they were face to face, his back still against the wall and her weight pinning him there.  He made no move to free himself, not the slightest twitch, just melting into the contact.  One hand was still in his, but she put her free hand on his shoulder.  She found herself on her tiptoes to look him in the eyes.

"Well that's a start," he finally replied, a small and hesitant smile debating appearing on his lips.

"I started," she said.  She wanted to kiss him.  She'd thought about that more times than she cared to admit.  But she wasn't going to do it.  General or no general, she wanted him to do it.  "You finish."

The debate won, he smiled, grabbed her waist and kissed her.  He made a deep sound in the back of his throat when her lips parted, letting go of her hand to grab the back of her neck.  It wasn't at all like she'd imagined it would be, but it was real and it was happening and they were both still alive.  

It worked.

She gasped for breath, her body letting her know this was an incredibly good idea.  He tilted her face up with a finger under her chin.  Her studied her face, tilting it so he could get a better look at her scars.  The skin pulled on her chin, the scar aching.  Threnn tried not to tense up.

"I like these," he said.  "I always did.  I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before now.  You were one of the best.  Never really considered..."  He caught her chin between his finger and his thumb, turning her eyes back to him.  "But you did?"

Threnn nodded as best she could with him holding her face.  "I had a thing with Marius, you know, for a while.  Used to pin him down in his tent like I did on the field."

Loghain raised an eyebrow.

"Sometimes," she continued.  Wasn't easy to admit, but she was determined.  "Used to close my eyes, wonder what it would be like with you."

"I missed a lot, apparently, but I wasn't looking," he admitted. 

"Mind if I find out? What its like?"

Loghain pulled her to kiss her again as a reply.  His lips were soft but the smooth leathery skin was hot as a brand.

"Hope you aren't expecting...," he whispered.

"Just a soldier," she replied against his mouth.  "Just a man.  That's all I want."

This time, she kissed him.  He was right, as usual.  Not a commander, just someone who was good at command; not a General, a Teyrn, a noble.  Just a soldier, a man all along who served in the best way he could.  Now they could serve for each other a little while, remember what was worth fighting for.  

It wouldn't fix the scars on her face, but might help with the ones inside that made them still hurt. 

 


End file.
